


Spending our nights (searching, and learning)

by okrableach



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Insecure Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okrableach/pseuds/okrableach
Summary: ”You are unhappy here, Keith. I see how this place drains you every day.” Lance's unoccupied hand falls on the surface right in front of Keith’s drumming heart. ”You have a big heart that feels so much and so intensely. Stop living behind Kolivan’s words. You don't have to do that anymore.”Or, Keith joins the Blade of Marmora to strengthen himself as a leader. There, he learns that all attachments are nothing more than distractions. If that is really the case, then why does it leave him feeling so miserable?
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 104





	Spending our nights (searching, and learning)

**Author's Note:**

> did anyone say klance season 3 dynamic?
> 
> title comes from the song that played on repeat while i wrote this: belly button by china tiger. enjoy! xx!

It wasn’t a difficult decision to leave the Castle of lions and Voltron to be a part of the Blade of Marmora. Not really. Keith has always been different from the rest of his team in the sense that he put the mission first and attachments second. He only wavered once when they lost Shiro and look at how that made him behave; irrationally and frantic. That’s not the kind of leader Voltron needs. They need someone who is headstrong and focused yet kind and understanding. It doesn’t take a brainiac to understand that that person is not him. Nor will it ever be. 

He knows that they don’t resent him for his choice. Even now after months of being separated from his old team they still contact him through the intergalactic communication system Pidge downloaded on his ‘phone’ before he left. Albeit it’s not much, but it’s more than Keith has ever had. Plus, it acts as a perfect distraction from the stoic life on the base. 

Sometimes, Keith wakes up to a picture from Hunk and his newly constructed recipe. Hunk shares the stories of how he attempts to find spices that resemble the ones from his village back on earth. The food goo he was used to has long ago been exchanged with somewhat decent looking food and he doesn’t hesitate to tell Hunk as much with what limited words he knows how to use. Seeing Hunk excited makes him feel warm in this cold space, so he allows himself to have it.

He also allows himself to have the videos of Pidge rambling about the newest technology she stumbles upon on all the different planets they visit for diplomatic and non-diplomatic reasons. Keith sometimes finds himself missing the twinkle she gets in her eyes when she chats about her interests since the camera doesn’t pick it up. Understandably that happens since it’s kind of difficult when he is galaxies away from them and radio waves can only do so much. 

Those feelings he gets for his friends usually get buried before they even reach the surface. ‘Knowledge or death,’ Kolivan had told him before their space shuttle had settled on the Blade of Marmora base. He understood then and there what that meant and what that will mean for his future. Whatever worry he felt for Shiro’s state had to be pushed aside. The anxiety of his friends turning into a battle and not returning had to vanish from his brain. Feelings like those ones are neither knowledge nor intel important enough for the mission. It’s the destruction that could lead to his demise. 

So, he does what he has been ordered to and pushes them all away and trains harder than he has ever done before. It’s a vast difference between training with Voltron where casualties are accounted for and safety is the number one priority, whereas training with the Blade focuses strictly on stealth and getting from point A to B, no matter the cost. He can’t tell which one he enjoys more; having someone constantly watch his back yet worrying about them or doing his own thing without second questioning anything, even if it means getting hurt on the way.

Some time ago, that was exactly what Keith was leaning for. He has always been a lone wolf and to this day enjoys being the lone wolf. Maybe it’s a Galra thing; the need to be alone in order to not form any connections with other beings. Things have changed, however. Now there’s some frustrating part engraved in him that makes him worry, that makes him double-take before taking down a Galra soldier just in case another Blade member is standing close by and gets hit with his wrath, and he hates it. ‘That’s not the way the Blade of Marmora does it’, Kolivan reminds him in his second month there and it embarrasses him to no end. A successful mission doesn’t feel as successful after getting scolded for something so… humiliating. 

When he first arrived at the base, he walked around without his mask turned on. There were other soldiers that did that as well, so he didn’t imagine it to be a big deal. Those things could be so hard to breathe in, sue him. Then, the criticism and the stares started piling up and while Keith has never been a runner, he did have a tendency to hide. So, the mask became constant. Behind the mask, nobody knew him. Nobody saw him. 

He is doing better now three months later, aware of it not because of praise but because of the lack of criticism. At this point, he stops expecting any guidance from his superior. Everybody here was on their own, the only thing shared is the goal they are trying to achieve. He becomes one with the shadows, blending in with the mask-covered crowd. In such a small amount of time, he has gone from being at the very front of the show to standing in the hidden corner. 

It’s okay, he thinks. 

Life on the base is fairly simple. He wakes up early in the morning, showers, and hits the training deck for a morning workout just like the rest of them. Around noon, Kolivan summons them for a debriefing—either because of an upcoming mission or to discuss a prior mission. Then, they go on said mission or return back to training until they hit the bay again. It’s a rinse and repeat system. No hanging out in the lobby to share trivial stories and definitely no bonding over significant moments that occur during their life-threatening missions. He just kind of exists to serve the purpose.

It’s a solid way for him to forget about his past life in the Castle. Who knew that your brain just shuts itself down when your life becomes a loop of the same routine? 

There is, however, one thing that he can’t forget about no matter how hard he tries—no matter how many sequences he goes through in the training bay, no matter how many hits he receives on missions—it’s always there. Although, it is not really an it and more like a he. And the he in question is Lance. 

When Keith left, he assumed that Lance would be delighted about his departure. Finally, he would be able to stand in that spotlight he loves oh so much without anything blocking his way. That’s what he has always wanted from the second he laid his eyes on Keith and he has never shied away from telling him as such. But then, Keith left for the Blade and suddenly Lance acts as if they are the best of friends.

Not only does he text and send pictures like Hunk and Pidge, but he also calls him consecutively every single night. On some days, he audio calls him to ‘see how he is doing’. Keith can tell through his voice and lack of enthusiasm that Lance either just returned back from a mission or that he is having a bad day. Keith wouldn’t say that those days are nice per se, but it’s a good switch-up from the usual upbeat personality that Lance carries. He can sometimes feel guilty about not being able to reciprocate the same enthusiasm. On other days—the better day—Lance video calls him and chatters on for hours about everything he is been up to that day. He tells him about their missions, the people they meet, and the crazy shenanigans that follow suit. They stay up so late on those days that Keith doesn’t even bother to go to sleep since he has to wake up in a couple of hours anyway. 

Lance makes it hard for Keith to miss him, but for an unknown reason, he somehow does. As good as Pidge’s technology is, it still presents some limits. For instance, it doesn’t carry along smells. Keith has no idea what Lance smells like anymore and it makes him frustrated. He used to be good with smells, even picked up on them fairly easily on earth when there was nothing but the scent of the desert sand surrounding him for miles. Now, he can’t for the life of him figure out what Lance smelled like anymore. He could ask, but even he understands that it’s a weird question so he doesn’t. 

What Pidge’s technology doesn’t carry along either is the warmth of Lance’s body. Their group has already been in space for what Keith imagines over two years, so their body temperature should’ve dropped somewhat, but up until the day Keith left the Castle, Lance’s skin still had the same warmth as the shimmering summer sun on a July evening. And being in the cold place that is the Blade’s headquarters, Keith can’t help but miss it. 

Every time he catches himself thinking about the feeling of Lance's skin underneath his fingertips, Kolivan’s words spin around his brain, feeling heavier and heavier for each passing day. Keith feels secure in blaming Lance for conditioning him to need him. He has grown to enjoy having a routine in his life after spending the years in his own solitude with nothing to do and talking to Lance becomes as much of a routine as their training schedule on the base. 

As much as he tries to hide it, his roommate, Wedok, picks up on his little… situation shortly after it begins. At first, he had just ignored the hushed late-night conversations from the bunk above his which Keith appreciated immensely. It was reckless to engage in such behavior but after realizing that Wedok wasn’t going to sell him out, Keith continued on. 

Well, up until tonight apparently. 

”No call tonight?” Wedok questions, voice layered by the robotic modulator. He is occupied by his handheld tablet so he doesn’t turn around to face Keith, who is writing down his own report from today’s earlier operation. 

The words make him halt in his movements. He considers ignoring them and moving on with the tedious task, but he knows ignoring it would be the worst course of action. No answer is still an answer after all. ”He is probably busy.” 

Wedok hums as if the information isn’t unexpected to him. ”Must be. I heard that they are already on their way here.”

That makes Keith perk up in apparent surprise. He hasn’t heard anything about Voltron paying them a visit, and maybe his rank in the Blade isn’t distinguished, but doesn’t he deserve to know when his team is involved in one of their missions? If it wasn’t because of a mission, why would they visit? Lance surely would’ve told him if such a scenario were to occur. After all, he was the one that nagged Keith for never visiting the castle. ”Here? Why?” 

”You aren’t aware?” Wedok has his face covered, but Keith can sense that his eyebrows are crooked in confusion. Then, his posture changes to a more imperious posture. ”Unsurprisingly.” 

Keith has had a lot of anger management training both on earth with psychiatrists provided by the orphanage and with Shiro in the castle, and while much of it has improved his temper, it still skyrockets from time to time. Exhibit A; this scenario right here. He can physically feel the way his muscles tense up and the way his nostrils flare up underneath the mask. The blood in his body rushes with adrenaline from the core of his heart to the tips of his fingers. He doesn’t revert it. ”What’s that supposed to mean?”

”Well, it doesn’t take a genius to understand that you have attachments to those humans,” Wedok says, pointedly. Almost as an insult. ”Kolivan refrains from informing you about our alliance for that reason alone. He wants to toughen you up.” 

Keith’s head spins. So, during the entire time, he had lived thinking that their alliance hadn’t been active, that their missions hadn’t intertwined with each other when in actuality Kolivan had been working with them behind his back. He can’t label what he feels as betrayal since it’s more like failure over the fact that they still don’t take him seriously. When he agreed to join the Blade, he had been designated as the bridge between Voltron and the Blade of Marmora. The only half-Galra half-human in existence. So much for that shit.

Lashing out on Wedok would be unfairly directed anger and he is not that large of a douchebag, so he throws his tablet on his mattress and storms out of the room with one destination in mind. His feet fly over the ground with how quickly he strides across the ship. Nobody bats an eye in his direction as he marches up to Kolivan with square shoulders and heavy breathing. 

”Why didn’t you tell me Voltron is coming here?” he asks, voice steady. 

There are some soldiers scattered around their immediate surroundings. Keith can tell by the markings on their suits that they are soldiers with higher ranks, which makes sense considering Keith had just walked into the conference room where the most important meetings usually take place. It’s blatant through their stance that they are eavesdropping on the conversation despite their hands that show that they are busy with various other activities. 

”Excuse me?” Kolivan challenges. Kolivan never has his mask on when he roams the ship, and while Keith subconsciously believes it to be a statement of dominance, the reality is far from it. He knows it’s because Kolivan wants the members to trust and rely on him and hiding behind a mask tends to disconnect you from such plans. Right now, Keith almost wishes he was wearing a mask. He’d rather have this conversation with the purple lit markings on his face than his intense yellow eyes. 

Still, Keith doesn’t avert his eyes. He continues speaking firmly. ”I thought I was the bridge between Voltron and the Blade. Why am I being left out of key information regarding shared operations?” 

”Have you ever considered asking yourself why Voltron hasn't shared that information with you either?” Kolivan sits down at the edge of the table, his usual seat, and leans back comfortably. At that moment, he oozes superiority. ”If they needed your assistance wouldn’t they contact you? I am well aware that they have your contact information.” 

Thank god Keith is wearing his mask because he can feel the flush that penetrates his cheeks. He staggers in shock, folds his arms to hide the shakiness in them before straightening up. Inside his brain, he is convinced that Kolivan can’t see his internal crisis, but judging by his furrowed eyebrows, he probably can. ”Understood,” he mumbles, his own robotic voice now familiar to him, before turning around to leave.

He’d rather not be in front of his boss while questioning his existence and every choice he has ever made. The texts and the calls he received periodically acted as a reminder that he was needed even if he wasn’t there. Suddenly they leave a sour taste in his mouth. Has he interpreted them all wrong this whole time? Did the paladins send him all those updates as... pity? He needs to get out of there. 

But life has better plans. Just as he reaches out to press the open button to the door, they part automatically to reveal five colorful suits. Suits that used to be so engraved in his day to day life. Suits that once defined his entire being. Suits that don’t belong to him anymore. 

It’s Allura that speaks first. ”Keith?” 

”Allura,” he acknowledges, shoulders tensing up. If this was five minutes ago he would’ve happily greeted his friends, even hugged them for the first time since his departure five months ago. However, now he is well aware of where his position lies with them. He isn’t needed anymore, stopped being a necessity the second he took of his red suit. Truthfully, a part of Keith used to rely on being able to return back to Voltron in case the whole operation with the Blades went south. He lived in constant anxiety over the fact that the Blade would throw him out sooner rather than later if they realized he wasn’t Galra enough. Knowing that he had a place to return to was more than enough to squash those fears. But now? Now he is not an adequate paladin either. 

So, he hangs his head low and tries to walk past them without glancing up at their expressions. He’d rather die in the hands of Zarkon than to observe how little they care about meeting him in their expressions. A weak part of his brain screams at him to at least look up to see how Shiro is doing, if the clouds in his eyes have reduced, but he keeps on walking steadily until the automatic door slides shut behind him. 

Then, he runs. 

  * ••



”End training sequence!” A voice that doesn’t belong to Keith’s booms out in the training bay he has been occupying for the past hour or two. Maybe three now that he thinks about it. He turns around to snap at the intruder but finds himself lacking the words when he gets greeted by the last person he wants to see. 

(That is a very false statement). 

”We haven’t met in five freakin’ months and you don’t even say hello?” Lance snaps, clearly bothered by Keith’s earlier behavior. He doesn’t attempt to step into the room and lingers near the entrance. The artificial purple light from the door illuminates on the exposed skin on his facial features, enhancing them. The creases on his forehead confirm his frustration with Keith. 

Give it to them to have a fight being their first in real-life conversation. Here he was thinking that things had changed between them. That the late-night conversation shifted their relationship into something pure and advanced beyond the rivalry title. Clearly not. Still, seeing Lance in front of him makes something inside his chest respond. He can't show it though, not when he has been working so hard on pushing all those feelings aside. 

”So? We talk every day,” Keith dismisses. His heart is definitely not in it, which shows by the heavy sigh that escapes his lips. If he wasn’t wearing his mask, he would run his hands through his hair in frustration. He hopes Lance can’t pick up on his hesitance and that the mask is concealing his true feelings. 

His efforts seem successful, as Lance furrows his eyebrows. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it up again. A thousand emotions pass through his facial features before he settles on neutrality. ”Take off your mask.”

”What?” Keith asks, surprised. It’s the last thing he imagined spilling from Lance’s lips. He almost considers doing it but then Kolivan’s words flash inside his brain and he retreats. ‘That’s not the way the Blade of Marmora does it’. Being a part of the Blade means no attachments, no feelings to be shared or even considered, and definitely no hesitance toward golden, upset boys. So, he takes another step back, just to prove a point more than anything else, and asks; ”Why?” 

”Why?” Lance parrots. Fury is clear on his face by now. He strides forward, breaking the distance Keith tried to put between them until he is standing in the middle of the training room right in front of him. ”Because I’m not having this conversation with you while you are Keith of the Blade of Marmora. I want to talk to our Keith.” 

Keith wasn’t mad before. Uncomfortable, yes, but not mad up until this point. He begins to feel the way anger curls up in his gut, threatening to erupt from his body like a blazing inferno. He balls his hands into fists, feeling the tension in his muscles. ”Your Keith?” he snickers coldly, ”You don’t need me. You never needed me. You threw me away the second I left while I was here thinking that what we had was something special.” 

”What are you talking about Keith?” The rage in Lance's voice has been exchanged with a confused tone. He can even pick up hints of sadness in it, but Keith quickly dismisses the thought. Lance doesn’t have the right to be upset over his words for they are accurate. 

”I had to find out from someone else that you were coming here. When I went to ask Kolivan about it he said that you guys purposely hid information from me. Why is that, Lance? Do you also think I’m too incompetent to do my job? Is that why you didn’t tell me about the mission even though we talked yesterday?” 

Lance huffs, and grimaces. He rubs a hand across his face and leaves it to rest on his neck. ”Is that what you are upset about? The Blade of Marmora contacted us this morning so what is this really about? Talk to me, Keith.” 

Embarrassment swallows him whole, withering him away with guilt. This was precisely why he would be a bad leader for them—he castigates without taking a moment to logically dissect an issue. What if that is what his problem is; that he is not insensitive but overly sensitive? The realization makes his hands fly up in an attempt to itch the uncomfortable scratch above his chest, near his collarbone. Being in the state that he is, his hands accidentally bump into the sensor that activates and deactivates his mask, making it vanish right in front of his eyes. 

Immediately, he feels a frown fall on his lips. Without the mask blocking his senses, he can pick up the purple bags underneath Lance’s eyes. He can also recognize the worried wrinkles across his forehead that get deeper the second Keith’s face gets exposed. He looks so… tired. Dull. Lifeless. Every ounce of fight sweeps away from Keith’s system, washing away like ocean waves. Instead, he feels his battered soul ache and his heart beating loudly against his ribcage. 

”I don’t know what my purpose is anymore,’’ Keith confesses, already feeling like locking himself up in a dark room in order to escape from whatever he is feeling. Maybe the darkness can dull his emotions. ”I used to be the red paladin and I loved that. It was so fulfilling knowing that I had a purpose bigger than myself. Then Shiro disappeared and this heavy burden got thrown on me that I wasn’t ready to accept. I still am not.” Lance nods, urging him to go on. ”Then, I came to the Blade of Marmora looking for answers to explain who I am and why I am the way I am, and guess what? I find nothing. The only thing I’m told is that I’m not doing well enough because I have attachments that I need to let go of. Funny how that is, considering on the Castle I’m perceived as the coldhearted one.” 

Keith doesn’t receive an immediate reaction, which almost prompts him into spiraling. Only now does he notice how close they are to each other. He can see the turmoil going on inside Lance as he processes the words Keith had spilled out. Just when he believes that he has driven his only chance of happiness away by his depressing thoughts, Lance's eyes settle on Keith’s again. They resemble one of the azurite crystals he found on a planet they saved from Zarkon’s reign. If this was any other moment, he might've taken some time to admire them. 

”You have a purpose,” Lance emphasizes with a voice so sure that Keith almost believes it. Lance silences him from interrupting him by placing his index finger on his lips. ”You’ve had a purpose craved out for you from the second you were born. You are the only half-Galra half-human in existence. Do you know what that makes you? A possibility… a symbol for a better future. Do you remember how Allura reacted when she first found out that you are Galra? She was appalled, quite frankly. But she came around because you are you.” Then, Lance takes a second, his eyelashes fluttering with his breathing. ”You are the chosen one, Keith.”

Keith wishes he could speak. Say something that will diffuse the emotions in his chest but he finds himself unable to. He is scared that if he opens his mouth, every other feeling he desperately isolated will explode before he manages to get a grasp on it. Thankfully, Lance doesn’t seem like he is finished with his speech.

”There’s so much going on in this war. 'If you blink once you might miss it' kind of situation. But I have never, not even for a second, questioned your position in this war and primarily on our team. When we first blasted up to space we were young, driven by pride and stubbornness. Even then I don’t believe I ever doubted you because you always had our backs. And yeah, it did hurt when you went up and left instead of working things out with the team. I hated you for doing that because I actually thought that maybe we would finally work as a team, you and me together. Side by side. But I came to realize that you need to find out about your heritage, which is why I couldn’t stay mad at you for long.” 

”Do you truly feel that way?” When Keith speaks, his voice quavering. 

”You are so oblivious,” Lance smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes. ”Why do you think I called you every single day? I think I need you, Keith. I think I need you beside me to handle all of this.” 

”Think?” At this point, Keith acts like a broken record, repeating whatever Lance is saying. It’s easier than to come up with his own words and it’s definitely much easier than to acknowledge what Lance is trying to get across. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, that would be a suicidal mission in a place like this, but he still does. Impulsivitivity has always been his middle name, after all. 

The suppressed smile on Lance’s face finally morphs into the soft one Keith is used to. It makes his eyes sparkle brighter than the infinite stars right outside of the base. When he takes a small, but a determined step toward Keith, he finally gets a taste of what he is been missing. A whiff of his smell hits Keith right in his chest, all coconut shampoo and sweetness. How could he have ever forgotten this? He used to stay up nights in and night out both on the castle but also here dreaming about planting his nose near Lance's neck just to get a proper breath of his scent. Keith has never had coconut, but he already knows that Lance beats its sweetness. 

”I know I need you,” Lance whispers between them. The words dance in the space separating them, building up the tension like a symphony. One of his hands land on Keith’s left shoulder, and while his suit is manufactured to withstand every obstacle, it still pulls the heat from his palm right into the cold skin right beneath the suit. 

”Lance...” Keith begins without a purpose. He flicks his eyes across his face, taking in every mole and freckle scattered all over the canvas that is his skin. He isn’t sure if there have been new ones added to his skin or if he was too dense to recognize them before, but he knows now that he took them for granted. They are beautiful. Each and every single one of them. For a second, he curses the bad connection he has been living with for the past five months. They never gave him a clear view of the constellations on his skin. 

Lance pulls him out of his thoughts with a meager exhalation. ”You are unhappy here, Keith. I see how this place drains you every day.” His unoccupied hand falls on the surface right in front of Keith’s drumming heart. ”You have a big heart that feels _so_ much and _so_ intensely. Stop living behind Kolivan’s words. You don't have to do that anymore.” 

When Keith captures his lips, Lance doesn’t hesitate to leap into his arms. His arms round his body tightly, pulling him as close as physically possible. They are close enough that their heartbeat forms into one unit, thrumming together in a steady beat. Keith doesn't believe in fate, but it's remarkable how much fate wants them to be intertwined with each other. From the Garrison, the lions, the shift in lions, and right now. If fate could have it it's way, they would surely always pull back to each other. 

Keith can't say he minds that. 

His own hands curve the back of Lance's neck, thumbs caressing his sharp jawline lightly. The smooth skin he gets greeted with is so astonishingly warm. It's heat he has gone months without. It pulls him in like a dehydrated man looking for water in the desert. Up until this point, he had no idea how desperate he had been for physical contact. And he knows his desperation is showing by the way his lips eagerly move, but he doesn't have it in him to overthink it. Especially not when Lance grants him all these soft yet passionate noises that get mixed up in their kisses. 

They don't even pull away for air. Keith just wants his admiration and guilt to show through his actions and pulling away would mean going back to reality. He just wants Lance to know how sorry he is for taking so much time to become the person he desires him to be. He needs him to comprehend how hard he is trying because Lance means so much to him. Every choice and decision he makes relies heavily on either Lance's interests or their team as a whole. Sure, coming to the Blade had been a seemingly selfish choice, but Shiro always said a good leader is a leader that knows himself. He had to do this, has to find his purpose before accepting the inevitable role placed upon him. 

As if he is reading his mind, Lance pulls away from their kiss with a small peck and whispers; ”You are doing okay, Keith. You will be okay. Do what you must and come back to us stronger than ever. I will always wait for you.” 

When Keith meets his eyes, he finds nothing but sincerity and admiration. His hands rest on Keith's cheeks gently, as if he's holding something valuable. That's the moment it hits him. Kolivan's words are wrong. Having attachments or feelings doesn't cloud his judgments, it heightens his willpower. He knows he has a job to do that might seem wearisome, but the reward will make it all worth it. He has friends that do in fact rely on him and care about him no matter what he brings to the table, even if it takes him some time to figure it out. And more importantly, he cares about them just as much, to the point where he wants to better himself, wants to work hard to make them proud and to keep them safe. Going through the chaos in the Blade will be justified in the end, if it results in their comfort. 

Right then and there, he finds his purpose, a purpose larger than himself that he always wanted. What is surprising is that it's a purpose he shares with six other crew members, and not alone like he always imagined. It's a purpose he shares with his friends. 

**Author's Note:**

> ok, two random facts about yours truly:
> 
> one: this is the first fanfic i have posted in almost two years and the very first one i've posted in the voltron fandom? ahh? i only got into voltron this year and klance is consuming so much of my life that i just had to start writing about them. feels good to come back to writing, man! 
> 
> two: i'm still pretty insecure about my writing and nervous shitless over posting this so if you could just.. let me know your thoughts that would make me so happy? i love you anyway because i know commenting isn't for everyone but still.. every little thing is appreciated.. ok xoxo 
> 
> also thank you for putting time into reading the words i scraped this together in less than a day, you are a golden star and i hope it wasn't too much of a mess hehe.


End file.
